


Statues

by griffinpuffgirl



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Annie needs a hug, Broken, Comfort, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Finnick Odair Lives, Finnick and Annie are siblings, Finnick needs a hug, Fluff, Grief, Grief/Mourning, Help, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, I will probab;y need a hug after this, Johanna needs a hug, Katniss needs a hug, Memories, Mourning, Peetas death, Prim is Dead, Prims death, Sad, Victors, finnick comfort, peeta is dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffinpuffgirl/pseuds/griffinpuffgirl
Summary: Victors are statues that have been remade over and over again, covering up as many cracks as they can with masks. Victors are the broken celebrities that seem so strong. Victors are the ones that seem unbreakable. Victors are the statues that crumble without warning at the faintest gesture. Fire beats Snow, but the bright fires aren't built to last. Katniss has lost everything. Peeta, Prim and her mother are dead, Gale betrayed her. She's won, she's a victor again, but doesn't everything come with a price? Snow and Coin are dead, she's won, her rebellion was victorious. But it doesn't feel that way. Finnick sits by the sea, trying to clear his head, he is scarred by what he's lost, what he's seen, his family, his mentor, but the rebellion is over. The districts are at peace, the rebellion has been quickly brushed away and they're happy. But Finnick can't forget. They've won, but not really. Annie is unstable, she drifts away into a world which isn't so broken and plagued, she's not really there anymore, not truly living. They've won, but she hasn't. Johanna is blinded by pain and anger, they've won, yeah right. Haymitch drinks to forget, lost in alchol. They've won, keep believing that but its not true.But they heal





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this fanfiction! This is just an introduction to that main story, saying what position their in ect.

She sits at home, blankly staring at a wall, her eyes dull and blank. Her breathing so quiet and shaky, you could mistake it for the wind blowing through the trees. The girl doesn't move, doesn't move out of the chair in the middle of the large, empty house. She doesn't answer the phone that rings every once and a while, nor does she look at the few letters that have come over the week. The girls, dark hair is matted and hangs down her back like a mass of spindly twigs. Her skin was pale and her face was gaunt, her eyes had bags under them from all those sleepless nights. Flowers grow on the graveyard in the forest, Primroses that Effie planted. They where meant to help her, but they where just a cruel reminder. A bow hung, gathering dust in the hallway like a present you received years ago that you keep for someone, but never use it.

Ominous shadows taunt her, asking her why is it she is still living, still breathing, when so many better people have been killed due to your ignorance or your own hand and walk in the land of the dead. The girl doesn't know the answer, she doesn't have one. Like when she was asked by a man, holding a gun to her chest why he shouldn't just kill her now. He wanted a reason. The girl couldn't give one. The man didn't shoot, the girl wishes he had. Just a small movement, pulling the trigger of the gun, saving people from so much suffering. Her desolate house at victors village cackles with memories from the capital, the village was ther only thing standing. She got the rest of her home destroyed, so many innocent people dead. Almost a whole district full, dead because of her actions. Then she went and started a war. The rebellion killed good people, innocent, good.

She was a fire, a bright one, a dangerous one, she burned those near her like a wildfire spreading through the forest. There where sparks, matches, small tongues of flame, not big enough to harm anyone, She was a wildfire, destroying everything. She was deadly.

Now she was burnt out.

 

 _Well._ Katniss thought to herself grimly. _A fire that burns bright isn't meant to last._

 

_And with good reason._

 

____---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

 

He sits on the beach, chin rested on his knees. Staring at the sea, but not seeing it. He doesn't know the time, nor the day, nor the date. He trys to call Katniss every once and a while, when he moves. Which isn't much, but he does, occasionally. The sea is gentle and the sun is bright and happy, distantly, he can hear children laughing and playing on the beach. Everything around him is radiant with happiness and peace, such a conflict to his own raging tornado in his mind. His hair used to be sleek and well kept, his eyes used to be fun and cheeky. His hair is tangled and dry and his eyes are sad and haunted. Perfect, round pebbles and beautiful shells wash up on the beach, forcefully reminding him of when he used to make shell necklaces and draw patterns into rocks with Mags. When they where calm and happy.

 

The boy flinches away from the scuttling crabs and the noisy birds, squawking words at him, why are you here, why are you alive, look what you've done! Look at how you've lied. He flinches because its true, he knows that, but he doesn't want to hear it, he seeks reassurance in the sea, but it greets him with salty letters squashed together. He hides his head in his knees, he doesn't want to see, doesn't want to know anything. He wants to forget, but he doesn't, he's to weak to forget. The boy feels grief and guilt more than anything else, because sad emotions, guilt, fear and grief, conquer happy emotions, joy, glee and delight. Its strange really, some people say that positivity is easier to feel than negativity, but that's not true, not for him anyway. Theres not always a glint of light, not always a star in the sky, but there's always a monster under the bed feeding of sadness.

 

Once, the boy was a cheeky, flirty boy who played in the sea and made necklaces in the sun, lying on the beach, managing to forget all that had happened. Once, he was a young boy who danced on the beach, then the games came and he turned deadly, no longer the young, carefree boy who laughed and giggled, but a scared man haunted from his life.

 

 _I suppose._ Finnick thought grudgingly. _The sea's a vast place, and when your on it, your always lost and alone._

 

_Always lost and alone._

 

____---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

 

The girl wasn't like the other survivors, her strongest emotion wasn't guilt or grief. Hers was anger. She paced furiously her immense house, her blazing eyes fixed on the floor as her enraged footsteps echoed throughout the house. Her breathing wasn't shaky or sad, it was fast and short. Her axe was implanted on a wall as she threw it at it, trying to vent her anger on the wall. Other knives where thrown with deadly accuracy around it. She was always angry, but this was different, a filler really, she couldn't stand being sad, being angry was so much easier. However, there where no snide remarks or discreet insults, there was no playful banter and no heated discussions. This wasn't the girls real anger, she was different from the other survivors, they where all different, but she was broken to. Not many noticed under her mask of rage, but she was hurting to. She dealt with it differently, some would talk about it like Beete, some would mutter to themselves viciously like Enboria, some would resort to another land far away in their head like Annie, some would drown themselves in drink like Haymitch, some would sit quietly talking to a sibling occasionally like Finnick and some would keep to themselves like Katniss. But she would vent her anger with weapons on walls and trees.

 

Eventually, the girl would collapse, defeated into a chair, sinking into its clawing embrace. Her knives and daggers would jeer at her, sneering remarks at her, why are you here, but your family isn't? Why are you here yet so many others died before you? Why didn't you go help at the capital? Help save them, you could've saved them, but you stayed like a coward. She would put her head in her hands and block out the sneering weapons, she wrote to Finnick, Annie and Katniss occasionally, but they never replied. As far as she knew, there where still letters, unread on the matt in front of the door. However, she couldn't bring herself to read them.

 

The girl sighed. _Every night I imagine someone holding me till I fall asleep._ Johanna thought, _And every night I believe it to ever happen less_

 

_Because they're all dead._

 

____---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

 

The man sits in his house at victors village, an empty feeling inside of him. His grey eyes aren't focused and his pale, claw like hand clasps a half empty bottle. His thoughts aren't real, nothing he feels is real anymore, he doesn't understand it, he doesn't want to. On the rare occasion, he remembers something from another life, when he was young and played with the other kids from the seam. He wasn't anything anymore, just an old drunk man, the oldest living victor from district 12. The only male victor alive. He can vaguely hear the whipping wind twisting through the piles of bottles laying on the cold floor. They remind the man of dead corpses, but he can't work up the energy to move them.

 

Once apon a time, he never needed to block out these painful, useless emotions like mourning and guilt, Those days where gone, gone where the days when he would smile at the world, now where his dark days where he cursed life at every turn, wondering what good would result of his life. A week of entertainment for the capital and a moments solitude for a pair of young victors. That was it. He drowned himself in the blissful isolation of alcohol every day, he cut himself of from the world. He screamed in his sleep and thrashed around with the knife constantly grasped in his hand due to paranoia. He wasn't the only victor taunted by inanimate objects as all the victors and survivors slowly drifted away from the world. His empty bottles asked him things he couldn't answer. Why he was alive, when he was old and scarred. Why did young people, who had so much to live for die but he lived on? What is the reason that him, who hated life and people, was alive when young children who had a chance died in his place?

 

He stared unseeingly at his bottle. _I just want to forget._ Haymitch thought. _to forget everything, as if I never existed, never lived. That would be better._

 

_That it would._

 

____---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

 

The girl wasn't there, not really, she was physically in the daunting house at the corner of victors village, but not mentally. The bed she lay on was untouched and the pictures and shells and books on the shelves where coated with a layer of dust. She didn't move, like a corpse laying in a coffin, awaiting a low spirited funeral in her honour. Although the girl wasn't dead, she wasn't alive either. She occasionally spoke with her brother when he called her gently out of the world she was manifesting in her head, but otherwise she was dead to the world, even if her heart was still beating steadily. Inside her head was a beautiful world, the people weren't scarred like she and her friends, but happy and free. It was different, but to her it was perfect. The girl was afraid of the real world therefore found a safe and protected heaven to resort to when the pain that consumed her was unbearable.

 

The majority of the time, the girl lived in her head and it was almost impossible to call her back for she was reluctant to again the feel the overwhelming feelings that broke her like a person walking on paper thin ice. She could hear the gentle waves in her head, crashing down on the soft sand, she was playing on it, with her mother, father, friends and brother, kicking the salty water up at them and having contests. Who could skim a stone the furthest? Who could make the biggest sandcastle? Who could climb the highest cliff? Who could run the furthest in the sand? Who could swim the quickest? It was all fun and games, a real game, not a game that was fatal if you loose, embarrassing at the worst, but never fatal, they where purely fun for the people playing the game, because those are the best games to play. The game was over, she drifted away from her paradise of memories, her eyes glistening with tears.

 

 _Sometimes its better to be alone._ Thought Annie. _So no one can hurt you, but that's in your head._

 

_That's not real_

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss finally picks up the letters and the phone, finally the mockingjay found her voice again! Also a bit of sweet Finnick and Katniss friendship, more in next chapter. All of the four victors in the next chapter friendship!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this!! I don't know what to say here...

Katniss stared at the letters she was fingering, she knew who they where from, Johanna and Finnick, maybe Annie. One smelled of fresh timber and the other of the salty sea, did her letters smell of ash or coal? Annie was, to be honest, probably to unstable to be sending letters to her, so maybe two where from Finnick. The rebellion had been brought to a final end a week and a half ago, a week ago Coin and Snow had also met their deaths. She hadn't heard from the flirty Finnick or the feisty Johanna since she had seen them both at the meeting of the victors to discuss having a symbolic hunger games. Katniss brushed her dark hair from her lost, grey eyes and chewed her lip, she wasn't sure why she hadn't opened them, but she didn't. Maybe it was because of confusion, as much as she did like the two victors, they where only around to keep her safe, it was a job, they didn't want to be around her really, but they had to do it for the rebellion, it was their duty to keep the stupid, fragile spark alive. Sighing, katniss opened the first letter, the sea scented one with Finnick's scrawling handwriting, looping and showy. The papers corners where dog eared and wet.

 

> _Katniss,_
> 
> _I know asking if your okay is a stupid question, but I'm going to ask anyway. Are you Okay? I hope you read this, I need to know your still there girl on fire. I'm worried about you, and I don't think being alone in these big echoing houses are doing us any good, do you? Annie's here of course, but... I don't know what to do! She's fading before me Katniss! Always alone in her head..._
> 
> _Anyway, We're safe, Katniss, safe, really. I don't know If it feels like winning to you, I know it doesn't to me. I suppose its not. No one really wins, You, me, Johanna, Haymitch and Annie know that of all people. Like Haymtich said: There are no winners, only survivors. However, Snow Is gone. But I need someone here with me Katniss, Johanna's to blinded by fury to understand, Annie... But you understand, I think you do. You did in 13, we help each other, because that's what friends do. I know you probably think It was just a job, being around you, helping you, but it wasn't to me, and Johanna, she liked you really. It was a love-hate relationship I suppose, but yeah, she cares. I like you to Katniss, your my friend, maybe I allied with you originally for the rebellion, but its not like that anymore, I want to talk to you Katniss._
> 
> _Oh, and pick up the phone will ya?_
> 
> _Finnick_

 

Katniss gave a weak smile, he cared, maybe she'd pick up the phone next time. Katniss missed Finnick, they where close to each other in 13 and they understood each other more than others. She turned her eyes to the next letter, the one that's fragrance was fresh bark in the morning. The writing was close together and in capitals, drops of ink on the envelope, it almost seemed like the writing itself was angry. The paper inside it was short and creased.

 

>  
> 
> _Brainless,_
> 
> _I'm writing to you because I'm stuck In this stinkin' house with nothing to do but vent my anger with knives at a wall because I have no willpower to go outside, as i'm sure you can relate to. You better be okay, doing something, alive. At least i'm keeping my accuracy with my knives up mockingjay. You better by shooting arrows at a cardboard cut out of Snows ugly face, keep your aim up. Keep going brainless._
> 
> _Johanna_
> 
>  

Katniss smiled again at the sheer- _Johannaness_ \- of the letter. She had managed to even capture her aggressive personality into the letter, her smile dropped. Looking guiltily down the hall, Katniss winced as she saw her dusty bow, No Johanna, I've not been keeping my aim up. Katniss thought glumly, maybe she should go hunting, if she could shoot without seeing a dead body that is. Katniss opened the other letter, tilting her head as she noticed this handwriting wasn't Finnicks, it was smaller and simpler, a few curls on the end of g's and y's but not nearly as showy as Finnick's. Katniss opened the letter, wondering if it was Annie who had sent it. The message inside was even shorter than Johanna's.

 

 

> _Katniss,_
> 
> _Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly_
> 
> _Annie_
> 
>  

For some reason, this short, strange message from an unstable girl seemed to mean more than Finnick's comfort or Johanna's encouragement. It was simple, but motivational, short but sweet. Annie, the sweet little girl from district four, the unlikely victor, knew how to help. Katniss didn't need a paragraph telling her people where there for her, because she had never relied on people before, she helped herself, and although she wanted to help Finnick and let him comfort her, and see Johanna and talk with her, they couldn't save her. The only one that could save her, was herself. That's what Annie was telling her, that it wasn't over, the mockingjay was the start, what happens to a caterpillar when it dies? It turns into something new, something better. Even though the mockingjay was dead, there was something waiting for her, something better. Katniss smiled and tucked all three letters in her pocket, then the phone rang.

 

Katniss brushed her hand over the letter from Finnick, wondering if it was him, she waited a few seconds, then picked up the phone with a pale hand, putting it to her ear. "Hello?" She said, her voice sounded hoarse and shaky.

"Katniss!" the voice exclaimed, sounding relived, "I was beginning to think you had thrown the phone out the window"

Katniss smiled, he sounded like the one she met in the quarter quell, not quite the same though, Katniss knew he was a good actor, without seeing his face, no one knew what he was feeling.

"Hi Finnick" Katniss replied.

"Have you been okay"

"Yeah"

"Really?"

"Have you been okay Finnick?"

"Yeah" he imitated, in the same tone Katniss had. She sighed.

"Really?" Katniss answered, she knew where this would go.

"Have you been okay Katniss"

"I've been better" Katniss eventually said,

"I think we all have" Finnick said tonelessly. He was right, of course, they'd been better, before the games, before everything changed. Before the nightmares started to haunt them. Before the capital turned them deadly. Before the capital brought about 12's destruction. Before the 74th hunger games. Before the 3rd quarter quell. Before the rebellion. Before everything.

 

That seemed like a lifetime ago. a million lifetimes ago.

"Katniss?" Finnick said.

"Hm?" Katniss replied, unaware that he had been talking.  

"I asked if you wanted to come to 4" he repeated. 

"I don't know, why?" 

"Because I thought 12 might have to many bad memories at the moment, and its easier to mend when your with others who know what your going through. You could stay at mine" explained Finnick, he sounded hopeful. 

"Um.. I don't know, I'm fine, really Finnick" Katniss answered, she wasn't used to asking for help, or even needing it, she was the one helping everyone, not the other way around.

"Your just not used to help Katniss, its not a sign of being weak if you need help" Finnick pointed out. 

Katniss flushed. "I - I- thats not true! I just don't need help" she said stubbornly. 

Finnick chuckled. "If you say so girl on fire, then come for a friendly visit, please!" 

Katniss paused, then gave in. "Fine" 

"Good, theres a train going to district 4 tomorrow from your district, it leaves at 10, meaning your get here around 4." 

"okay, see you tomorrow then, bring stuff for a couple of weeks"

"I don't want to be -" Katniss started

"I've asked you over for couple of weeks katniss, it's only polite to accept" Finnick said smugly. 

"Fine" Katniss sighed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh and don't worry, they'll all see each other in the next chapter!!


End file.
